


Standing

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Self-Lubrication, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 15:55:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15585402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Noctis belatedly keeps tabs on his stubborn omega.





	Standing

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

For the most part, Ignis drives him _everywhere_ , but there are a few occasions, every now and then, where the royal advisor’s duties simply don’t allow for it. Noctis recognizes the woman who comes to pick him up—he wouldn’t get in a car with someone he didn’t, fighting and warping abilities or no—but not enough to chitchat. She takes him swiftly home while he strikes up a game of King’s Knight with Prompto, who just got off work too and is already eager for distraction.

Noctis remotely and casually kicks Prompto’s ass for the whole elevator ride up. He even manages to continue the trouncing single-handed as he unlocks the door of his apartment. He fumbles out of one shoe successfully but pauses before the second.

There’s something different in the air. The whole place reeks of _omega_.

Noctis breathes it in. The scent is familiar, powerful, and a lot more suffocating than he’s used to—he chides himself for going to work at all; he should’ve been on top of this. He should have it written on his calendar. Or Ignis should’ve told him about it. He closes the game without an explanation—Prompto can wait. Given how thick the air feels, Ignis can’t.

Noctis fully expects to find Ignis already in the bedroom, forming a neat little nest atop Noctis’ king-sized bed out of freshly laundered sheets and snippets of Noctis’ wardrobe. Noctis still has pictures in his phone of Ignis’ nest from last time—he couldn’t help laughing at how _tidy_ it was. He’d been told in school that omegas in heat are wild, frantic things that can barely keep themselves from shaking. He’s seen the remnants of Prompto’s trashy ‘nests’. But Ignis nests just like he does everything else: perfectly.

Noctis doesn’t have to go all the way to the bedroom to check. He finds Ignis in the kitchenette, standing by the stove, stirring a thin broth full of vegetables and noodles. His glasses rest squarely on his nose, his concentration avidly on his pot. The only thing that’s out of place is his utter lack of clothing. A simple white apron is the only thing giving him any modesty. It hangs down his toned front and ties over his rear, the loose bow only slightly obscuring his cheeks. For a full minute, Noctis just _stares_.

He doesn’t have to introduce himself. Ignis says with just a tad too much force, “ _I’m fine._ ”

Noctis doesn’t believe that for a second. He wanders closer, needing to check, and sure enough, the second that he lays his hand on Ignis’ back, he’s _burning_. Ignis’ fair skin is flushed and tellingly pink in almost every area. There’s a slightly glossy sheen to him, and Noctis watches a single bead of sweat slither down Ignis’ spine. It explains the lack of clothing. Ignis insists, “I can continue my duties.”

“Ignis...” Noctis starts, because as much as he loves coming home to his omega cooking him dinner—especially _naked_ —he wants to take care of that omega. But Ignis stiffens, and Noctis knows he isn’t ready to surrender yet. There shouldn’t be any shame in heat. Mating cycles happen to almost everyone. But Ignis is a man of strict control, and Noctis tries to understand.

He presses a steady kiss against Ignis shoulder. It sends a shiver down Ignis’ lithe body. As he pulls away, Noctis promises, “I’ll be right here if you need me.”

Ignis doesn’t even nod. It looks like he’s fighting just to keep himself upright. It doesn’t seem safe to leave him by the stove, but Noctis trusts Ignis and relents. He wanders over to the sofa in the living room, still within clear view of Ignis, and he lounges back so he can see around the island. Ignis’ pheromones continue to claw at him, but Noctis does his best to retain his senses. He sends Prompto a quick text apologizing for his abrupt departure, but he doesn’t agree to another game. Instead, he just dicks around on the internet while his pants grow tighter and Ignis wrecks the room. 

Even with one eye on Ignis, the smell is what gives it away. When it becomes too much, Noctis looks again, really _looks_ , and his breath catches at what he sees. It’s an effort to contain his smirk after that. Pocketing his phone, he returns to the kitchenette.

Ignis repeats, “I’m fine.” 

Noctis ignores him. Noctis comes up to flatten into his back, which has Ignis muffling a strangled moan and leaning into him. Noctis reaches down to stroke between Ignis’ legs, drawing up his inner thigh and scooping up the clear liquids leaking along it. He plugs as much as he can back into Ignis’ puckered hole, which opens right up for his index finger. Ignis’ entrance vacillates around him, hungrily trying to suck him deeper. Ignis lets out a little cry and _breaks_ , slumping over. Noctis reaches his other hand around to catch Ignis and keep him off the stovetop. 

In his best hushed but forceful king’s voice, Noctis orders, “Go nest. _Now_.”

Then he steps away, and Ignis shudders and obeys.


End file.
